Being Claimed
by irrationallyrational
Summary: It was deleted because I use bad words in summaries, but alas I am reposting in hopes it stays. Sequel to Claiming of Rachel. NOT warm and fuzzy.
1. Chapter 1

"It's only lunch time and this day has already been so … fucked up!" I thought to myself as I pull the head cheerio letterman tighter around myself. A waft of cinnamon and Quinn floats into my nostrils. I breathe it in deep and close my eyes to try and calm myself. Re-opening my eyes I find myself staring at the contents of my locker. With a sigh I tear down all things related to Finn. I pause at the photo of Finn smiling and remember how the last time I looked at it was three days ago after I accepted Quinn's invitation that changed my life. How one weekend could change the course of one's life will never escape me and my mind wanders back to the events that followed Friday night's.

_Saturday Morning_

Before I even open my eyes I feel my body in its entirety. I ache in places that had never previously ached. My nether region throbs, my wrists feel raw and all of my muscles feel as though they went through a marathon, (I am assuming such because I have actually never partaken in such an event). I find that I am on my side with my arms out in front of me and my legs curled. There is a warmth that travels down my backside where Quinn has lined her body up along mine. Her arm is wrapped tight around me and her hand rests on my chest between my breasts.

"Go back to sleep," is mumbled softly into my ear. I stiffen. She pushes her body tighter against mine and intertwines our legs, forcing me to extend mine. Her arm pulls me impossibly closer. I feel her nose brush against the back of my neck through all my hair and a sigh scampers across my skin. I swallow as I taken in our nakedness and proximity. I feel her breasts against my shoulder blades. I can feel every breath she takes. My heart picks up as I recall all that had transpired before exhaustion lead me into a delicious slumber.

Her hand moves away from my chest, I open my eyes and follow its movement beneath the blankets. Her hand locates my arm and her fingertips travel the length to my hand. She laces our fingers together and brings the connected hands close to my body. Her lips briefly make contact with my shoulder.

"Babe, just relax and go back to sleep. Please? Just another half hour, okay?" is grumbled low into my flesh and hair. She shimmies around again, moving our bodies, trying to find a comfortable position. I make a small noise of acknowledgement. She settles and relaxes around me. I look across the room to the oak door. I continue my glaring as my mind reels. I ponder everything that could be pondered in regards to the actions of the previous night and their repercussions, of what it all means. My mind was still spinning with liquid reasoning when I feel Quinn pull back a little from me. I hear her yawn. Her hand leaves mine to be brought up to my shoulder where she applies pressure until I have rolled onto my back. Her front is flush with my side. She props herself up onto her elbow, hand in her hair and the other hand is brought up to push my hair out of my face and then cup my cheek as she leans forward placing a soft kiss upon my lips. My eyes widens at the tenderness. Leaning back she smiles beautifully at me and then her eyes roam over our forms, which are predominantly covered.

"Sleep well?" softly reaches my ears as her eyes intently focus on mine. I bring my eyebrows together for a few seconds, then I clear my face and nod.

"Good. Come on, let's go pee," she commands as she throws the blankets off of us. I am hit with the cold of the room, and my body acts accordingly. I hear her giggle and look at her incredulously. I follow her gaze and it leads to my beasts. My nipples are fully erect. I bring my arms up to cover them as I sit up. She rolls her eyes, grabs my wrist, and drags me off the bed, out through the oak door, down the hall and into a white bathroom. She closes the door behind us. I stand awkwardly in the middle of the tiled floor. She saunters over to the porcelain bowl and continues with her business as though I was not there. I unabashedly continue to gawk. As she washes her hands her deep eyes find mine in the mirror and that demonic smile comes out. I swallow. She lightly tilts her head in the direction of the toilet. I walk over to the device and sit down. I close my eyes and take a moment to relax. Finally I manage to will my body to act the way I desire. After I finish my business I walk over to the sink where Quinn leans against the counter, arms crossed with a smirk and playful glint in her eye. Heat consumes my face and I divert my gaze from her pale beautiful form. I turn the water on and squirt soap into my hands. I proceed to keep my gaze focused on my hands as the suds take over. I feel fingertips slide over my hips and down to the front of my abdomen. I gasp at the feather-like touch. Both of her hands splay their fingers across my flesh and pull me back into her.

"You know you can look all you want. There is no need to be bashful, especially since you will be finding that we will be spending plenty of time in this state of dress," she chuckles into my ear. Heat completely consumes me and my heart races at the implication of that statement. I look up into the mirror to see a reflection of myself in the color red with panic filled eyes and Quinn watching with hooded eyes and a lazy smile across her face. I swallow and as I finish washing my hands her mouth finds my shoulder. I stifle a moan and absentmindedly tilt my head giving her more access. My eyes flutter shut as she moves to my neck. I place my hands on top of hers.

"I gotta take a piss!" sounds from outside the door and I jump. Quinn chuckles and removes herself from me. She opens the door to reveal a dancing Santana in a similar state of undress. She pushes past Quinn and races to the toilet and starts to relieve herself with a sigh. I gawk. Quinn grabs my hand and drags us back into her room. I watch the large oak door swing shut with defining thud.

Abruptly my back collides with the oak I was glaring at. My lips are covered with moist soft ones. A hastiness pulls my bottom lip out and her tongue dives past it. Her kiss takes on a frenzied passion. My fingers find themselves sheathed in silky strands as I try to keep up with her mouth. My head hits the oak several times as her movement becomes a bit more erratic. I hear her hands slam into the oak on either side of my head. Her hips smash into mine. She pushes my legs apart with her own. Her thigh pushes up on my nether regions. I whimper from the pressure. She pushes up more and I stand on my tip toes. She smashes her hips into mine once again. My thigh rubs against her moist heat. I feel it all over my thigh as she starts to move her hips. Rough movement of her rubbing against me causes her to rub me in return. A groan vibrates through our connected mouths. She releases my lips from hers. Her forehead rests against mine. Sweat drips down from her hairline and onto my skin. I open my eyes. Her face is scrunched deliciously in concentration and pleasure. Her eyes remain closed. Her breath releases itself in rapid pants across my face. I move strands of blonde from the smoothness of her cheek and lace my fingers at the back of her neck. Her hand drops to my waist. Her hips move increasingly faster. A long moan escapes her. A resounding thumping echoes throughout the room as my backside hits the door again and again. Her other hand drops to the other side of my waist. Those long fingers squeeze with underestimated strength. Her hips move incoherently faster. Suddenly she stills then just as abruptly jerks. A wondrous noise escapes her open mouth. She rides out her orgasm upon my thigh, and then she relaxes into me. Her fingers lose their grip. She leans her whole form into mine, flattening me to that oak door. I move my hand to stroke her hair and the other to her back.

After a few moments she catches her breath and pulls back away from me but a few inches. She looks into my sympathetic eyes with ones filled with adoration. She leans in and catches my swollen lips into a kiss that is deep, slow and will linger well after it is done. When she pulls away her own swollen lips curl into that demonic grin and her eyes darken. I swallow and furrow my brows slightly. Without preamble her fingers fondle my folds. I gasp at the contact. Her fingers then appear in between our faces oozing with my fluids. She chuckles and brings them to her lips. She licks them clean slowly and individually. I feel my face burn and my clit throb.

Her eyes are black as they find my fearful ones. She grabs my hand that was still resting upon her back. Pulling me further into the room, I glance at her voluptuous backside and she laughs demonically. Once at the edge of her bed, she grabs my hips and turns me to face it.

"Bend over," comes low and sugary sweet into my ear. I swallow and turn my head as I hear her walk over to the bedside stand. There resides the strap on from the previous night's activities. My insides clench in anticipation and fear. I swallow again and bend my front half down over the bed, holding myself up with my arms. I hear her struggle with putting on the device. A noise of victory fills the silence. I feel her presence approach my backside. I wiggle in apprehension. Her giggle thunders and sets fire to my nerves. Those dexterous fingers wrap around my hips.

"Spread those legs a bit more Rach," sternly jumps me into action and I shuffle my feet out a bit more. A squeeze of fingers halts my movements. "Perfect" is hoarsely growled out. A hand disappears from my hips to only relocate to my dripping folds. They run deep and slow through my slit collecting. I gasp. Again they disappear. I can hear the moisture being applied to the toy and a glance over my shoulder confirms my thoughts. I glance back down at the comforter before she can catch me looking. I clench the softness beneath my palms and drop my head. I suck in a breath, bracing my body. The hand finds my hip once again. I feel the toy tease my entrance. Like a flash of light the toy is fully submerged into my tight heat. A strangled noise rips through my throat and I arch. I claw at the bedding. Tears cloud my vision as the sensitivity and tenderness of my flesh from last night lingers. She doesn't pause to let me adjust, she just pulls out and plummets back in as rapidly as the rain falls from the sky in a hurricane. I cry out each hump. My whole body sways with the movement of her reckless hips. The sound of flesh meeting flesh melds into my cries and her groans and grunts. Time wears at the strength of my arms. They burn from the exertion. I feel my insides start to pull down. Pressure builds. A sharp sting on my right butt cheek emits a squeal from my throat. Again the sharp sting ripples through my rump. Again she spanks me, but a bit more lightly. I squeal each time. She picks up pace, moving her hands to grip my shoulders. She flings her whole body into the movement. I almost cannot handle it. My ache from yesterday only amplifies from her intensity. My privates feel raw. Her intensity reaches a pinnacle. A hand twirls my hair and grabs it firmly. The other leaves my shoulder to reach around to my front to pinch my clit. I moan deeply. She starts to rub it furiously. My noise becomes more prominent. She gives a slight tug to my hair, forcing me to look up. She gives me another pinch and the pressure releases itself. I come with an arch and holler. I let my arms give out and collapse my face into the bedding. She holds onto my hips and rides out my orgasm. I gasp and twitch. I can hear her panting over my own labored breathing. Sweat trails down my spine. I close my eyes and allow the pleasure to course through me. I sigh when I feel her pull out.

Suddenly I am facing the ceiling and my legs are spread eagle. The warmth of her tongue enters me, rapidly moving. I take in a sharp breath and close my eyes. She eagerly consumes my fluids. Her hands are upon the back of my thighs holding my legs up and out. In and out that pink muscle moves. I grip the bedding. She moves to my folds and sucks them clean. Teeth graze the sensitive flesh. I let out a squeal. She does it again. I whimper and reach down with a hand and gentle tug on her hair. Misinterpreting, she assertively bites down and pulls on my nether lips. I cry out with pain. I feel the vibration of her chuckle. Her lips move to my clit, suckling it. I moan quietly. There is nothing slow about her actions. Her hands squeeze and knead my legs. Her teeth clamp down upon the throbbing bundle of nerves. Surprise squeezes through my vocal cords as my heel comes down upon her shoulder. She looks up at my face as I look down at her. Her brows meet and those luscious pink lips snarl. I swallow. An open palm lands hard upon my stomach. Stinging and tingling erupt over the surface. The noise fills the room accompanied by the oomph that passes my lips. I take a moment to process this action; she does not and promptly resumes her activities with my clit. I toss my head back and drape an arm over my face. I whimper and wiggle my hips slightly. I hear her growl and her nails sink into the soft flesh of my thighs. I let out a shaky breath. Aggression is her manner as she suckles, pulls and teases my clit. I can feel my body betraying me once again as I moan and start to pant. My insides soon feel that pressure once again.

"Looks like Quinn is already having breakfast Brit," chuckles Santana. I remove my arm and promptly prop myself up on my elbows. I watch Brittany and Santana saunter in wearing baggy t-shirts and booty shorts. They carry an assortment of food. Embarrassed, I try to pull my body back away from Quinn and her determined mouth. The oak door thuds shut, masking Quinn's noise of frustration. Grabbing my hips she drags me back to my previous location on the bed. My eyes widen.

"Lie back," accompanied with an open palm to my lower abs derails my observations of Brittany and Santana. I whimper. Lying back I promptly cover my face with both my hands to mask the heat that overrides the light tan of my skin. I hold my legs open.

"Good girl," breezes over the tender flesh of my inner thighs. Her mouth goes right back to its previous activity as if there was no interruption. Her ministrations pick up vigor. My mouth opens but my throat closes itself allowing no noise to pass. Her teeth nip my clit and my hips jerk. I take a sharp breath in. Her moan vibrates through me and fuels the heat that consumes my body. Her fingernails drag down the backs of my thighs. One hand comes around to rest on the mound of curls that protect and hide my "bald man in a boat" while the other proceeds to my entrance. Her finger swirls around in my fluids as they seep out of me. She teases my entrance. I whimper. The pressure rises tremendously with anticipation and apprehension. Her finger plunges in. I toss my head back and animalistic noises rip through my vocal box. She curls the invading digit and it hits that delicious spot. I come undone with a cry. She rides out my orgasm with her tongue. Swiftly it moves against me, drenched in my fluids. I keep my eyes closed and roll my head to the side. My pants and Quinn's moist workings are all that can be heard. My legs relax around Quinn's head to rest upon her shoulders. A droplet of sweat rests between my breasts. Her mouth moves to my curls where she places a whisper of a kiss. Feather like kisses travel up my abdomen as she pushes herself up and over me. My legs widen to accommodate for her. The talented muscle that resides in her moist cavity devours that salty droplet before lightly caressing my fully erect nipples. I feel my fluids rub off her chin and onto my chest. She continues until she has traveled up my neck , down my jaw up my chin and finally to the corner of my mouth. She lays her body down completely blanketing mine. Her smooth fingers find my cheeks and bring my face around to face her. Her lips lower tragically slow to brush with mine. She pulls her face away and run her thumbs over my cheeks as she gazes at my face. I gaze back with eyes filled with physical exhaustion. Her gorgeous locks are a wonderfully disarray but frame her porcelain complexion deliciously. Rose crayons seemed to have colored her cheeks. Her luscious lips are tantalizingly swollen from her pleasurable work. Her eyes, oh her eyes are an intense hazel with a swirl of adoring brown and longing gold. My heart contracts and swells differently than before. My face softens as I get lost in the swirls of colors. My hands find themselves rising to stroke her face and hair. Her shy, tentative, loving smile steals my breath and doesn't give it back. I gingerly bring my face to hers. Lightly I brush my lips against hers. I lie back and observe that those swirling spheres hide behind a radiant porcelain curtain. My eyes shadow the salty droplet that escapes past the curtain. Over a rosy mountain, through space and onto my tan chest it travels. My brows furrow in confusion. My tiny fingers run soothingly over her cheeks. The curtains rise and my heart stops at the show they present. Love covered with salt water bore into my panicked brown. My heart stutters.


	2. Chapter 2

**A little explaining is required I suppose, though I despise having to explain. I would rather let the story tell itself and let you feel and think how you wish. How you interpret my words is how you interpret them and I will not tell you differently. Most of your questions will be answered or rather come unfolded as the story rolls out. The answers are not always going to be right there in your face, I like to be indirect. With this said there was the question of my use of the words demonic and demonically. I am writing this story through Rachel and I feel as though she sees the world colored in her emotions. So when Quinn is trying to give a sultry smile or be sexily mischievous, Rachel actually sees it as demonic and not sexy or playful because of the hurricane inside of her. Get it?**

"I think I'm gunna upchuck B," Santana's quiet snarl echoes throughout the small room. Quinn's intense hazel eyes leave my nervous ones, they harden and the love retreats into the recesses of them as they find the other occupants now on this side of that oak door. She shifts her weight on her elbows that encompass my ribcage. A blonde locke falls down past her slender shoulder and into her eyes. I reach tentatively to secure it behind her ear once again.

"Oh you're saving this image in your perv bank to enjoy during alone time," comes the acid past those swollen but delectable lips. I turn my head in the other girls' general direction. Brittany sits upon Santana's tiny lap as she reclines in the desk chair. Santana's dark hair is neatly pulled back into a low ponytail while Brittany's hair is elegantly worked into a French braid. Santana huffs an air of indifference while those orbs of fire roll back into her head.

"You guys hungry?" bubbles Brittany's innocent interjection. Santana closes her mouth and looks down with a furrow upon her brow. A light kiss upon my cheek averts my attention to the angelic face above me. "You hungry babe?" whispers across my lips as her mouth hovers above mine. I rasp a yes back. The distance is lost as her face falls forward. This kiss lingers in its gentleness. She pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. Her hands find mine. As she sits back she pulls me up. She sits Indian style between my spread legs. Her pale appendages reach forth and wrap around my waist. She pulls and lifts me up into her lap. I grasp at her shoulders. Her fingers find my ankles. She pulls them until she can cross them at the small of her back. Her moist palms find my rump and the small of my back. My breathing skitters past her face moving her wild hair. Her eyes have a maddening twinkle as her lips turn up slowly, exposing white canines. I swallow as I feel heat flame up through my abdomen, into my chest, over my neck until it sets my face ablaze. A piece of paper is all that would fit between our two bodies. I feel the ghostly touch of her nipples against my own breasts. My tiny curls brush and tangle with hers as she pulls my hips gently in. Shyly I dip my head and look at her through my long lashes. A light chuckle escapes through those ever expanding lips. My lips, of their own accord, mirror hers.

"Hafta share my breakfast with a couple of grinnin' fools; look like fuckin' nudist clowns!" is grumbled by a discontent Santana as she clamors up on the bed beside our tangled mass. Brittany soon follows and sits cross legged beside the stormy brunette. What separates them from us is a line of various plates of fruits and breads. Brittany adjusts the plates within the wrinkles of the bedding.

"Vegans eat this right?" the sugar that is Brittany directs at me. I look into those deep dark blue eyes and nod once. Her wholesome face splits with a charming smile, "Awesome!" A vibration hits my hands as Quinn chuckles, "Good work Brit." A palm leaves my backside and finds a fresh fruit. A pale hand with a bright strawberry quickly obstructs my view. Posed at my mouth, the strawberry hovers. I look into that angelic face to see demanding eyes and a flustered furrow. I bring my confused eyes back to that strawberry. I slowly open my mouth and the fruit rockets in. I take a juicy bite. Crimson fluids trickle past my lips. The fruit disappears from my face to only be replaced with Quinn's face. Her tongue clears the crimson from my chin leading to my lips. She savors the strawberry taste as she suckles my bottom lip. She groans her contentment. She pulls away from my lips and finishes the strawberry off. Her pleased eyes bore into mine as she chews.

I reach for a slice of banana. That pale hand snatches my wrist and gives a squeeze. I wince, tender is my skin there. Dark eyes scowl as her lips draw tight to almost non-existent. I swallow and blink hard. Slowly my hand is brought back to its previous resting point. Slowly my fingers expand beneath the blanket of blonde and they knead the tense muscle tenderly. Those rosy lips spring free to form a joyful grin. Muscles in my back release their tension slightly. A small sigh escapes me. Those thin pale digits reach for my slice of banana and carry its potassium wonder to my awaiting mouth. I savor its flavor. Breakfast continued in a similar fashion. Throughout the unconventional meal, Brittany and Santana spoke and feed each other if not but a few bites. Words of cheerleading and high school gossip flinted between the three beauties, my voice remained dormant.

Once the food had been consumed, Brittany took the dirty plates and a mumbling Santana out through that oak door to do whatever activities they do to entertain themselves. I swallow as that heavy thud echoes. Small moist deposits from my collarbone to my ear trigger a heavy breath to escape me. Quinn's thin arms tighten around me; her hands flatten themselves against my shoulder blades. Her chin tucks itself into my neck while her nose burrows in my brown locks. I feel her chest expands against mine as I hear the intake of air through her nose. She lets it out just as slow as she took it in. Hesitantly I bring own hands to rest high up on her back beneath the blanket of silky blonde. She pulls me in tighter to her warmth; her arms enclose my back, her hands find my ribcage and her fingers curl softly into my flesh. She hums a small content noise. Slowly, barely she begins to rock us, left to right. Minutes later we still. She squeezes me tighter to her. I feel the smooth texture of her lips move against my flesh along with the vibration of her voice. Clearing my throat, I ask "What was that?"

"I never want to let you go," comes a watery reply. My eyes widen comically so and my heart picks up its pace. I feel small tiny droplets run onto my neck and shoulder. She sniffles. Panic tightens my chest. I swallow and run a hand slowly down her back and then back up. I move my mouth closer to her ear and softly shush her. Minutes drag themselves past my alarmed eyes. Distress pinches my lips together while confusion ties my brows into a furrow. Her fingers uncurl and her chest heaves a great sigh. Her arms drop and her head rises. The sound of our sticky bodies parting illuminates the previous silence. Her eyes have red snakes running through the whites and the hazel has lightened in shade. Love leaks out of the corners. Confusion ties my brows even tighter together. A small lift of those rosy knolls averts my attention to a small smile. Pale digits find my face and pull me into her fair complexion. My face softens as our lips execute an erotic dance. Abruptly we are parted. A demonic grin greets my opening eyes.

"Let's go shower," is suggested as a hand rakes through my tangled mop. I nod. She pushes my legs apart and backs out of their encirclement. Standing at the edge of the bed she reaches forth until tan digits are overrun with fair. Once again I am dragged off the bed, through the oak door, down the hall and into that white room. She places me by the toilet. I glance at the john and then back at her. That taut body leans deliciously into the shower as she turns the spray on. I watch her run her hand through the gentle rain of warmth. I glance at the porcelain again. A sigh escapes me and I gingerly rest my bottom upon the cool seat. I close my eyes and relax. My body does as I bid. Upon opening my eyes I find Quinn riffling through the cabinet, her face one of concentration. I finish my business. Curiously I meander over to her frantic figure. Clearing my throat I ask "what is it you are looking for?"

Abruptly she stills her movements and looks to me. "A new razor head," and with that she returns to her search, "my mother said she bought some earlier this week but I don't know where she put them." A jolt runs through me.

"Where is your mother?" gushes out of me before I can stop. Quinn throws a few things upon the floor as she rummages.

"I didn't tell you?" she asks rhetorically, "She had to go to…I forget where…for her work or something. Doesn't really matter because all I heard was that I had the house to myself for the weekend," she chuckles. My heart doubles its tempo. I swallow thickly and stare at the white tile. A victory cheer brings me back to the pale demon goddess in the room. She shoves all the things on the floor roughly back into the safe haven of the cabinet.

"Come on babe," she summons me with a wave of her hand and the sway of her hips. She clamors in first and holds the glass door open for me. It slides shut behind me with a thunderous click. The shower doubles as a bathtub so we fit comfortably within the enclosed space. The heat runs a shiver down my spine. Nimble fingers encompass my hips and I am moved to the end where the spray is far less. She reaches down and lifts one of my legs until my foot rests on the lip of the tub. A can of shaving gel appears in her hand. A glob forms upon her palm. I feel the cool gel spread upon my thigh and down my calf until there is a nice layer of foam. The new razor head encounters the top of my ankle and travels intimately to the top of my thigh. Rinsed off, it starts its path over again. Once my leg is free of foam, she switches my legs for me and does it all again. My eyes take this time to observe. The spray gently bounces off of the smoothness of her back. It moistens the blonde locks. It runs in rivers over the small dimples of her back and rump. It pools delicately around quaint feet with red toenails.

I am shoved into the welcoming pelts of water. She puts her own foot up upon the lip and starts the process over. Closing my eyes I lean my head back. My scalp cherishes the heavy warmth of my wet hair. I sigh. Brining my head back down, I open my eyes and read all the different products lining the shower. I reach for a bottle of shampoo that seems suitable for my hair. Before my finger s even feel the smoothness of the plastic my hand is slapped away. I jump and yank my hand back. My wide eyes find her scolding ones. I swallow and stand still in the spray. I watch her finish with her task. The razor is deposited amongst the clutch of products. My eyes are assaulted with firm perky breasts, a smooth taunt stomach, a well-trimmed patch of tantalizing curls, and long luscious legs. I swallow. Her perfect face is inches from mine. I breathe in deep. Those fiery orbs dance across my face. That demonic grin slowly graces those impeccable features. The bottle I had yet to touch is lifted and brought between us by her disciplining hands. A good size amount of shampoo pools into her hand. She reaches behind my head and collects my hair and proceeds to scrub and wash it. The smell of coconut fills my nostrils. After her fingers had massaged my scalp and ran the length of my hair, she tilts my head back and rinses all the suds away. Gripping my shoulders she switches our positions. I watch as her own locks become lost in the suds before the water rescues them. Next she finds the shampoo's counterpart. The smooth texture of the conditioner wondrously soothes me. I close my eyes and allow her to take care of my brunette strands. After both of our manes are well cleansed and nourish, she produces a washcloth. Selecting a face wash she applies it to the cloth before running the cloth gingerly over my scrunched features. I hear her chuckle. I feel my face being rinsed. I open my eyes to watch her do the same process to herself. The body wash she selects smells of vanilla. Removing me from the spray she lathers my body until the tan is disguised by white foam. Her fingers find every curve and surface of my body. She does not toy with me. I am shoved once again into the cascading waters. I twirl in the warmth. I feel the rivulets of sudsy water voyage across my flesh. I close my eyes and a small content sigh pushes past my lips. Fingers squeeze my waist and I step out of the haven. I watch the suds outline every curvature of her as they fall to their destined doom.

"Come here," softly reaches my ears. I glance up into that fresh face and see tenderness. Tentatively I approach her. The water haven consumes our forms. Flush our clean fronts connect. I blink hard. Her lips collide with mine. A tug and small whimper wills my mouth open. That torturous pink muscle dominates my own. Her fingers collide with those soothing rivers running down my back. Passion met with need push the pace and grace of the kiss. We part gasping. My eyes stay shut as my tongues licks my lips. A tiny kiss to my forehead is barely felt. The water ceases abruptly. A cold wave of air hits my back as the glass door is opened behind me. I shiver. I hear her step out before I open my eyes and reluctantly follow.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Take what you may from what I have to say; for me life is but a kite with its string all the way out stuck in a wind storm with nearby trees begging for it to fall to its clutches.**

Soft fluff rushes across my face. It consumes my head and ruffles my hair. Gently it is removed. It runs down my back then back up to my shoulders taking each arm in turn consuming cool droplets that loiter. Every crevice I possess gained sufficient attention from the soft striped fabric; moisture could never escape its absorbent clutches. Once Quinn is done drying me off, she throws the towel into the hamper bin. I shiver as the cold of the room seeps into my open pores. I watch as she rushes to dry herself. My arms cross and hold my heat close. Her towel soon joins mine. Her pale form seems to glisten under the fluorescent lights as she saunters over to the door. Opening it, she tosses that golden mop sending clinging droplets free. Pearly whites flash behind the curling lips. Hazel glistens demonically, taunting me.

"Come on babe, I have the perfect outfits for us," is chuckled low as the shadow of the hall consumes the lithe form. I breathe deep and bring my feet up to have them fall again in echo to hers.

"Shut the door, God knows I don't wanna hear what those two are doing," forces me to enclose myself in the confinement of a room filled with the smell of sex and sweat. Her back is turned to me as she fiddles with something on her desk. A collection of the hydrogen and oxygen seep from the lustrous blonde, like tap from a maple, tormenting with the slow path it has decided to partake. I swallow the dryness. My mouth burns hot as a need to use my tongue flushes my face. Off the curvature of her rump it loses its clutch on her skin. Plummeting, it is lost in the plush carpeting.

"Bingo," is whispered as she moves her arms with finality. Country music flows into my ears traveling smoothly into my heart as it easily lightens. My mind churns until I recognize the voice as Dolly Parton's. Her high voice is soon graced with a softer one; her lips dance with the words, a waltz only others can watch. A hand gestures me towards the bed. Moving away from the door towards the bed I spy the strap on and ponder when it departed from her body without my realization. Cautiously I set myself upon the edge of the bed, back rigid, hands in my lap. Sauntering across the room she disappears through saloon doors. Her voice still soft travels the distance as she pirouettes with the words "marry me" back through the doors. Clothes of dark color are grasped tightly within her pale digits. Still singing softly, I am gestured to stand with sharp movements of her extremities. Dropping the clothes beside me on the bed and then extracting a dark blue button down, much like she removed my jacket but in reverse I find myself swimming in the polyester material. The hem grazes the bottom of my thighs. My tan arms lost within the sleeves. A small chuckle reaches my ears as I watch her face light up in endearing amusement. Lightly she takes the cuff of one sleeve, folding it back, once, twice, three times until my tan reemerges. A repeat happens to the other sleeve. A pale limb reaches beside me once again. A blur of red blazes past me. Abruptly she sinks before me. My chocolate globes follow her down. Holding a pair of short shorts open close to my shins she motions for my feet. Lifting them I gingerly slip them through the holes designed for my lower limbs. As she rises the red fabric sails over my smooth skin. Setting the elastic upon my hips, her fingers expand over my jutting hipbones and give a small squeeze as she leans her face into mine. My eyes close. The bridge of my nose finds itself graced with the brief presence of delicate petals of rose color. A sigh makes itself known on my dry lips. Her heat is replaced with cold. Opening my eyes I find her now clothing that divine form.

"Man, I love this song. Who would have ever thought Train would make a comeback? I definitely thought they were more one hit wonder material," is exclaimed as blonde damp locks are pulled from the confines of a black button down. Her long legs carry her over to the vanity beside the desk. A purple brush is soon wielded in her hand. The weapon takes its assault upon the deep tangles nestled within the forest of blonde. Her eyes close. I sit back down. She twirls. I shuffle back to the headboard. Again her lips dance that dance with the words as her voice carries the music. I cross my legs and bring my hands to rest in the nest they create. Enamored I trace the grace of her blind movements. So engrossed in the song, her hair forgotten and her body encases its tempo. As the song comes to an end, she flops back onto the bed. Fantasies dance in the hazel as she turns to me.

"Gosh, I love songs titled 'Marry Me'" dreamily exhaled causes me to bring my cheeks up and my lips to part. I smile as I comment, "I noticed." Her eyes turn to the ceiling as a gush of happy air leaves her lungs, "I can't wait until we are married". My eyes widen, my heart pulsates at the tempo of a gallop after it leaped over my ribcage. "Can you imagine?" The hazel burns deeper in the magical fantasy it sees; it burns right through my skin engulfing my lungs, consuming all available oxygen. My mouth opens, but nothing leaves nor enters.

Obnoxious cellphone noise accompanies a slamming of oak. Brittany still clad in her earlier attire, approaches the bed.

"It has been making noise for like ten minutes, and I finally located it in your jacket pocket. The i.d. said it's your dads," she gushes at me. Quickly Quinn sits up and relieves Brittany of the noisy contraption. My mouth drops further as she presses the green button.

"Hello…this is Quinn, Quinn Fabray sir…yes Mr. Berry, she is more than fine, we were just doing our hair…hahaha yes I have noticed…if I must say Mr. Berry," and that was all I heard as she meandered out past the oak door. I turn to Brittany, she shrugs. Santana then moves quietly into the room holding a diet soda. The Latina then offers it to the blonde. Smiling Brittany accepts the beverage.

"Babe you make really good French braids, I think you should do Rachel's in two of them," Brittany suggests as she wanders toward the desk. Santana merely nods and ushers herself to the bed and plops down to the edge. Brittany soon changes the song to that Trace Adkins song about some young lady's back end.

"Come sit on the floor between my legs Rach," that raspy voice tenderly commands. Her black eyes hold no malice. I clamor to the edge of the bed and drop to the floor. My shoulder blades rest against the wooden frame as her warm legs press against the backside of my arms. The previously abandoned brush weaves through my damp tresses freeing them from each other. Soothingly her hands work. I close my eyes. My back slowly slumps, my arms fall listlessly, and my head drop backs. Time passes slowly as I seek the small comfort to its maximum capacity. I hardly note the song change to "Sail" by Awolnation. I hardly notice the sound of the oak being opened and closed. I hardly perceive the light foot falls approaching my relaxed form. A weight is dropped upon my lap. I jerk from the abruptness. Quinn now resides with her back flush to my front. She shuffles her body until it rests comfortable upon my own. He head rests on my shoulder; her unique smell bombards my nostrils. I watch as my tan warm digits are layered by pale, slender, cold ones. They tighten around mine, pulling them to a new destination, blindly they follow, no resistance. One is relocated beneath that polyester black high up onto a toned torso. I feel ribs beneath my fingertips. The cold digits part with the warm ones, leaving them in uncharted and uncertain territory. The other collect of digits remain interlaced upon a thinly veiled thigh.

"Leroy is just so much fun Rach, how come we have never been introduced before? And it was only a phone conversation! I can't wait to meet him in person Sunday night. I bet he will make dinner a wonderful affair, he said he will make me something delightfully non-vegan" is rambled on as two chilly hands toy with my one residing upon the warming thigh. My face scrunches. Confusion flexes my fingers.

"What did he want to discuss with me?" I breathe quietly as she takes a moment to recollect.

"Well he said that you were to go home around lunch before him and Hiram took off for that party so they could see you before you left again for your other plans. I then asked him what those plans were since you seemed to have neglected to inform me. He told me you are having a night with Mercedes and Kurt, something about a movie you want to see in theaters. I then discussed with him about your new plans. Mercedes and Kurt are now coming here and we will all go to the movies later. It'll be a big ol' slumber party. Then we discussed the new official change in our relationship and decided that a nice dinner would be nice tomorrow evening around 6. He sends you his love and says he can't wait to see his princess tomorrow night. After that I called Mercedes and everything is now set in motion," Sweat pools in my palms. Panic races around and around my ribcage tying up all my inner organs, restricting them. I swallow a thick mass.

"Babe, can you touch my breast now?"

**A/N: I apologize if this seemed rushed**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Its not much but it's better than nothing, right?**

Like a blast from a heater fan, heat gushes from my gut upwards until the moisture in my mouth is consumed and my face perspires. My eyes open to cartoon standards. Stiffening of my spine shadows the rapid production of salty fluids on my hands and feet.

"Excuse me?" is squeaked from the tightened passage of my throat. Her chest cavity swells against me as she heaves a great exasperated sigh. Lolling her head, the smooth skin covering the cartilage of a perfect nose rubs, nuzzles the hot, exposed flesh of my neck.

"I want you to touch me, hence why your hand is under my shirt," her tone quiet but hard as granite. She wiggles her demanding body, prompting me to touch her. I swallow the fire ants that erupt in my chest and run through my veins. I flex the small fingers residing upon her protruding ribs. Lightly I drag dainty fingertips blindly north over smooth snowy skin. Closing my frightened eyes, I trace the swell. I heave a great breath. Her lips skim her markings upon my throat blatantly. My fingertips circles the firm but giving organ. From the top of the swell I gentle drag my finger nails around slowly spiraling in towards her areola. My index finger whispers over the protruding nipple. A gush of hot air is released from her chest cavity taunting my flesh. Swallowing heavily I pinch the hardened flesh. A barely heard whimper dances into my ear. Gently I pull. A moan echoes the whimper. Her slender fingers smother the dormant ones of my other hand. Bravely, my hand weighs the delicate mound of flesh. Lips slightly parted settle under my ear. Wonderment provokes my eyes open. The smooth polyester cloaks my movements as I gentle squeeze and knead, palm her breast. Her chest begins to rise and fall quicker. My eyes find her panting face adorning deep swirling hazel half hidden and glazed from the world. I feel my heart thunder.

"Hold up! Mercedes and Kurt are comin here tonight? As in two more damn divas from Glee? Holy hell and we have to go see a movie with them? It better not be some fucking dumb ass musical shit, Berry," Santana's irritated voice rips me from the flushed goddess in my arms. I startle, shaking Quinn. She whips her face toward the annoyed Latina, surely set in a glower. My ears become aware of a Creed song playing softly with Brittany singing soothingly along, my eyes find that Santana has moved from the bed to the desk chair as her bubbly blonde counterpart gracefully matches the tempo of the song with her limber body. Santana glares expectantly at me. Quinn abruptly sits up, ripping my hand from her breast.

"S, these are Rachel's best friends and as her girlfriend I have to play nice and win them over. Since you are my best friend you must also win them over by default. It won't be too hard. Get the best friends' approval and I am golden. As to what movie we are going to watch we can decide when they get here," is casually tossed between her gestural hands. My brows drop hard together as my hardened eyes bore into her back.

"We already picked a movie though," I voice my secondary concern. Quinn turns around to look at me with a demonic grin and glistening eyes.

"Baby," her hand cups my jaw, "there are more people going now and everyone should get a fair say in what we watch, don't you think? Besides you wouldn't want to make anyone upset would you? Also I think I can speak for both of us in regards to what movie is best to watch, so you don't worry about it" is followed with a chaste taste of her lips upon my own. I huff quietly and cross my arms as Quinn turns back around to watch Santana concede and nod her head. Suddenly Brittany squeals and rushes over grabbing Quinn's hand. The gentle sound of happiness bubbling from within Quinn tickles my heart. 'Barbie Girl' by Aqua plays loudly as Santana reaches over toying with the musical devices. I remove myself from the floor as the blondes act out the song. A tender smile acknowledges their silliness but hardly reflects the torrent of blundering thoughts in my mind. I settle upon the bed as I grasp the bedding to find purchase in the chaos of confusion my being currently finds itself. The cool smooth texture slows the solitary race my heart entered. I bring my eyes to focus upon the long snow covered muscles that flex in her lower limbs as she dances with Brittany. My seeking vision trails over the sculpted gluteus maximus encased in those shorty shorts, past the flash of toned abdomen muscles to a slender neck, onto a sharp jaw, to those demonic loving hazel eyes. One disappears in guise of a wink. A flush of heat swallows my tan once again. I watch as they happily sing and dance, soon enough Santana joined in. All too quickly the song ends and the girls smile, giggling and sighing happily. 'Sexy Bitch' by Akon streams next from the speakers. The demon angel approaches the bed and finds the continuously abandoned brush. Gingerly she brushes her hair over at her vanity. I can see her face in the mirror. Emotionless her face settles and the natural beauty of her binds my heart. A flash of blonde rips me to the middle of the room where Brittany has found it appropriate to disrobe her upper half and dance for an appreciative Latina seated in that desk chair. Boundless her body moves with fluidity. Her face contorts with sexual predatory as she slinks up onto her lover's lap. The tease and overtly sexual message cannot be construed. I feel my body thrum. Warmth blankets my skin. A small pulse makes itself known in my core. My lips are moistened repeatedly by my pink muscle. My breath quickens.

Abruptly my wrist is encased by pale strength. Yanked I tumble to the floor, knees and hands burn with the halting force. I gasp. Hard movement brings me closer to the floor, my stomach and face become intimately aware of carpet. I push up onto my hands to only be knocked back down, bursting my lungs. A knee is upon the middle of my back, bearing her weight. With a flourish I feel the polyester cloth flipped up and my shorts ripped down, exposing my tender flesh.

"You are to _never_ look at anyone but me like that. _Only I_ will provoke those feelings in you" ices my ear, chilling my spine. My heart bewildered, stumbles erratically. Then a pale palm comes down hard upon soft flesh that has a lot of give. I wail out the sting, body tightening. Her hand moves with the intensity of a humming bird's wings. Repeatedly the sting is made aware and repeatedly my wail thrashes through my throat. My rump soon becomes numb with that sting. Salty liquids gush from my clamped lids and into the plush fabric of the carpet. A string of saliva connects my lip to the floor as I turn my head to incoherently plead. My hands claw without reprieve. Her hand continues until my body no longer braces for the blows and breaths hardly surpass the sobs that explode through my torso. Gruff hands find my arms and yank me up. My body is then cradled by strong arms. I clutch at the button down adorning her body. The sobs are the rush from the dam of my emotions breaking.

"Stop crying Rachel. You have to learn that I am your everything. You cannot leer, gawk or lust after anyone else. Only I will be the recipient or cause of arousal. Now stop crying baby," quietly but sternly accompanies the brushing of fingers over my tear streaked cheeks. I heave a great breath. I open my eyes to find hazel swirling and rose petals thinned. The fair of those plush cheeks are tainted with a splash of red. I stutter a few deep breaths, struggling to calm my rabid heart. The room only occupies us once again. My wild eyes blink hard. 'I Alone' by Live plays quietly into the still room. Strong fingers tighten around my chin turning my face. Hiccupping, my fingers fall from the polyester into my naked lap. Sniffling, I blink hard once again. Left over salty water spills tickling the hot surface of my tan complexion, it collects at the light colored fingers still grounding me. My emotionally burdened chocolate gazes into the swirling vortex of greens and browns. Minutes pass as I gulp great calming breaths and she blatantly stares.

"Do you understand Rachel?" is sighed into my face. Her lips hardly moved with the words. A tiny scowl rests upon her brow. Her eyes flicker between my two. "You are mine." I blink again as I swallow. I nod the tiniest bit I could with the limited movement I was allotted. The scowl deepens, hazel hardens to solidity and rose completely disappears in favor of a thin line. A tug to my chin brings my watery complexion closer to those deep demanding eyes. The closure, cradle of my body becomes far more stern, possessive; stiff is her other arm, rigid her posture, legs tightening around me.

"Mine" menacingly echoes, as her demeanor implores into my being. "…yes…" drops past my full lips and splashes the harshness off of her face. "Good" is accompanied with a sharp nod. Then that grip tightens and the rose petals are back and smoothing over my wet lips. My eyes remain closed after the tender kiss, her hot breath blankets my face as she leaves little possessive deposits from her lips on my features, each one enunciated with the word of possession, "mine."


	5. Chapter 5

**What can I say? I am a sadomasochist. **

"Rachel," demands my eyes once again to communicate with the world I find myself in. Inches away, the demonic angel that is consuming my life fills my vision. Deep hazel draws the trepidation that swirls and simmers in the acid of my stomach to a boiling point. I swallow and will my hiccups to leave me.

"Yes?" limply parts with my lips. Her brows crawl together. Her fingers, still tight upon my chin, give a squeeze.

"Who did you sleep with before me?" comes cold and distantly into my mind, freezing all functions. "Who dare claim you before me? Were you a slut and sleep with multiple people?" her face snarls and the demon that sleeps is awakening. My eyes widen and shallow breaths leave me unhinging my jaw. Wild fire is her thought process. "Who did you _fuck_, Rachel? Was it good? I hope they enjoyed it because it'll be the last time they touch somebody! They are as good as dead Rachel, how fucking dare they touch what is mine! Who was it?" her angry rant rains on my face amongst her spittle. My body is stiffened by the accusation; pride and offense tighten my jaw and sew my brows together. Her hand leaves my chin to relocate to my upper arm. "Answer me!" accompanies a light shake.

"No one," avalanches out. My resolved eyes anchor into her wild ones. She reels back, confusion rolls her nose. Moments pass, my hiccups count them.

"No one?" softly leaves her, "then why didn't you bleed?" I tilt my head as puzzlement weighs it down.

"I'm assuming you thought the fact that I did not experience vaginal bleeding after our initial coupling must mean I have indulged in coitus previously. Not every woman bleeds her first time, Quinn, actually the smaller percentile do. Every woman's hymen is different," boldly educates her. Strength in my pride fuels my natural fire. Those wary eyes study my truthful features.

"So I truly was your first?" is shyly asked of me. I nod in determination. "Good, so I am your only. Ever." The curve of thin pink membrane extinguishing my strength.

"Well let's get you cleaned up and then I think Brittany wanted to play games or bake or something…" accompanies the movement of her righting my body and proceeding to stand us both upon our bare feet. Bending at the waist her upper half lowers to accommodate the reach of my shorts around my knees. Hastily her hands pull them up securing the elastic around my hipbones. Long fingers splay upon those bones and hold tight. Taking my hand I run it across the valleys of my face smearing, collecting excess fluids. Hazel follows the movement with a twinkle and a slightly curled nose. Those fingers pull lightly until they bump her hip bones. Pelvic flush with pelvic. One set of fingers glide across the small of my back like that of a butterfly until they meet their twin. Her arm settles like that of rock thrown into a pond upon my back. That twin hand travels like that of a breeze up my side, tugging gentle upon the shirt that cloaks me. It finds my face. Her eyes glimmer adoration while baring possessiveness. Pads of fingertips trail the remnants of liquid fear down my face. I hiccup. She smiles softly. Her fingers find my lips sending tingles in their wake. The path continues down my chin, along my jaw to my hairline at the back of my head. The fingers once again splay and then hold firm as her face is brought to mine. Her lips coax mine to dance a sensual dance. Moments pass. The dance ends with a sigh of contentment blanketing my face. Her arms drop from me but one hand finds mine. I am silently tugged towards the oak. Through it we pass, down the hall we travel until we arrive at the bathroom. Tugged I am pulled to stand with my back to the sink then gently pressed into it. Leaning her lower half against mine, she reaches around me. I hear water run and watch as her eyes follow her own movements. I rub my face and hiccup. Pulling her arm back she brings a moistened clothe to my face and proceeds to gingerly wipe away the distress from my outer appearance.

"There you go babe, all better now," is accentuated with an Eskimo kiss. Removing her body from mine she turns toward the entry and walks away. A moment passes. I take a deep breath and tilt my head back, closing my eyes. I bring my hands to the edge of the sink counter gripping it to anchor myself in the fact this is real. I take another deep breath.

"Rach?" echoes down the hallway. My eyes open wide. "Coming," heaves itself from my lungs. I push myself from the sink and follow my unsolicited keeper's voice to the first floor. Each step is heavy and binding. At the bottom of the stairs she waits. She waits with a small patient knowing smile. When I reach her she grabs my shoulders and turns me down the cool hall. I can hear music further down and slowly start the path towards it. A small sting erupts upon my sore rump, accompanying the smack noise is her triumphant, "to the kitchen!" My small gasp precedes a chuckle and rub to my tender backside. Her weight is suddenly draped over my back as her arms encircle my upper half. She guides us into a waddle down into the kitchen where we find Santana and Brittany covered in cooking ingredients. Everything about the room warms my beaten heart; the colors, the music and laughter, the smells and the actual heat. Quinn guides us to a chair at the table where she keeps us molded as one dropping into the chair forcing me into her lap. Brittany gracefully dances over and sets in front of me a large bowl. She smiles and winks at me before dancing back over to Santana. I take the bowl, glancing inside I see it is in need of mixing. Taking the wooden spoon I stir viciously until it is well mixed. My emotions fueling my strength. Brittany comes over and takes it to only replace it with another. Quinn's hands had settled themselves in my lap and from time to time rubbed my stomach or thighs, her voice singing and conversing behind me. We bake for quite some time, snacking all the while, in a warm little bubble until the doorbell rings.


	6. Chapter 6

**I am not very flamboyant in many regards so for me to give life to that side of Kurt and Mercedes is difficult, so they may not sound as authentic, I apologize.**

Ten small points of pressure simultaneously find themselves upon my hip bones, lifting me up from the warm resting place I had lost myself in until I am far enough away from her and the table that a small space for her lithe form to glide gracefully through exists. Long hair tickles the backside of my arm as she passes; a chill runs down my spine as her heat leaves me. Turning I watch as she wordless parts through the doorway. Relief weighs my body down until it sags into the unforgiving wooden form of the dining room chair. My eyes shut as my lungs heave a great gulp of reprieve filling my veins with much needed respite. My mind clouds itself with musical notes as it founds itself in something normal, consistent. An abrupt wood-dragged-on-wood noise forces my eyes to flash wide and my lips to thin and mash together. Dark compassionate eyes dance between my own. She leans across the table from her newly occupied seat.

"It'll be fine Rachel. Quinn will handle the situation like she handles all other situations… HBIC style," Santana smirks to me. I furrow my brows and frown as the details of such a title leaves be befuddled. Raucous laughter rumbles through the doorway preceding three warm smiles. My eyes find themselves tracing the glittery eyes, nose crinkles, white enamel, and lifted knolls of two people dear in my life. My face begins to morph in kind, until my eyes land on hard observing hazel with rose petals lingering in a small smile. I falter, but rushed back into the diva-ness of my kindred spirits as they fill the room with their presences welcoming and commanding attention. Flourished hugs are passed between the two beacons and the cheerleaders.

"Girl get your diva butt over here and give me a hug!" an enthusiastic Kurt squealed. Quickly I rise, taking the few steps to his petite dazzling self and throw both limbs around his middle so no space exists. My forehead finds purchase on his shoulder where I breathe deep, filling my lungs with his comfort and encouragement. Squeezing tighter as his arms envelop me and his head rest upon my own, absorbing his energy, I exhale slowly. Stepping back I look up at him with a small smile. Suddenly another pair of arms are squeezing me from the side tickling me as they let go just as quickly. My lips stretch extensively across my face as I am greeted by a mirror image on Mercedes face, "Hey girl," she softly sends my way igniting fire in my chest.

"So Quinn was just telling us you have something important to share with us? I mean it must be something grandeur if she called and claimed you wished to change our dead set plans," he pauses as they both inquisitively watch my blank face, "It must really be something if we are at this sumptuousness mansion that Quinn calls a house," he adds with a chuckle. I swallow thickly, and sweat fills my palms as my eyes dance amongst the faces. Fingers brush my sides, scamper across my taunt abdomen until those pale limbs embrace my upper half. Her feet line themselves parallel with mine, her breasts press themselves into my shoulder blades, and her pelvis molding into my rump. Hot sweet air escorts the light press of lips upon my cheek. My hands move to cover hers as my face erupts in volcanic heat and turns downwards. The tile pattern in this kitchen is quite exquisite.

"Rach and I are together," her soft voice lined with subtle emotion. Her toned arms squeeze me tighter as a dramatic gasp is ripped from an equally dramatic being.

"Say what?"is the dumbfounded response. An exasperated sigh tickles my ear, moving strands of hair to scurf the scarlet surface of my face.

"Rachel and I are girlfriends, lovers, partners or any other term you want to use for two people in a monogamous relationship," annoyance coats every letter of every word as the head cheerleader explains. I swallow thickly as I glance upwards. His eyes flicker across my face as I watch every question scroll rapidly through them. His jaw moves up and down several times before he collects himself. His eyes swirl with compassion and confusion as they feel the planes of mine.

"Really?" whispers through the air and stabs me casually in the heart. As those binding arms shift with indignation, I beg him; plead with my downturn lips and melting chocolate to see through. A huff of a 'yes' through my hair has him turning to Mercedes with high eyebrows.

"Well I can't say I am totally surprised," is the shrugged conclusion from Mercedes. My heart nooses itself with disappointment and my jaw unhinges. My eyebrows twitch as Brittany swoops in with the topic of baking and planned games for the afternoon. My eyes follow as they move on as though the river they just crossed wasn't the rapids. Soon they are all settling in with the music and the cookies as I am shuffled to the table once again to be seated upon my keepers lap. As I mix batters placed in front of me, my mind leaves the current and recedes to its depths in hand with the words how and why.


End file.
